Tiny Dogs and the Apocalypse
by Ihasabukkit
Summary: Quick Oneshot: We all know what happened in Atlanta when the plague hit, but what about New York City? The story of some of the few who escaped. UPDATE: now a multi-fic because I took a liking to the characters
1. Escape

_"Walking Dead" oneshot starring original characters made by my fav reviewer Pug (known on ffn as RejectedShyRebel18). Hope you enjoy! No beta, so all mistakes are mine, all mine._

* * *

When the television informed New York City that the apocalypse was nigh, Kiba was yet again cleaning dog pee out of the carpet. He was spending the summer at his friend's apartment in lower Manhattan, and since Gear had work during the day, Kiba usually had both dog-pee duty and the apartment to himself.

He'd spent the summer so far puttering on Gear's computer or watching endless cable channels. He wouldn't admit it to Gear, but besides sports he also watched a lot of trashy reality shows. Sometimes he even studied, imagine that. With only two years of high school left, standardized tests loomed.

His friend Gear was an amiable 35 year old, though more than once Kiba caught him telling women on the subway he was 28. Gear could pull the lie off, though, especially on weekends when he let his dark brown scruff grow in. Gear was a normal height but he dwarfed Kiba, who was still trying to reach five feet. Gear kept reassuring Kiba that he'd have a growth spurt. Kiba was losing hope.

Gear came home around six each night, and he and Kiba enjoyed an easygoing rapport. Gear tended to groceries and the apartment, and Kiba helped with dishes. Over their usual dinner of Chinese takeout they'd chat about sports or Gear's serious crush on the Starbuck's cashier down the street. Kiba never said much, and he was grateful Gear didn't seem to mind. Gear also didn't mind when Kiba's tiny black pug Luna peed on his bed or tried to eat his socks, which was a relief.

The only regular disruption to Kiba's peace was the raucous neighbor down the hall.

Ghost.

Ghost had taken an almost clingy liking to Gear, and perhaps more importantly, their constant Chinese left-overs. Tall and gangly, Ghost never seemed able to sit down or shut up, and he'd pace the small apartment with arms flailing, blonde hair always messy, blue eyes always alight with some drama of the day.

Sometimes Ghost would take Kiba on walks around the city while Gear was at work. Kiba rarely spoke in more than a whisper to anyone but Gear, but Ghost didn't mind. Ghost always seemed more interested in buying Kiba weird foods at bodegas and food carts, just to watch his reactions.

The one time Kiba had asked about Ghost's admittedly odd name, Ghost had whipped out his wallet and driver's license. His real name, which Kiba never tried to pronounce again? Johannes Einojuhani Aave Korhonen.

"The 'Aave' means Ghost in Finnish," Ghost had grunted out, clearly having had the conversation many times before.

Ghost loved to whip that license out. Kiba quickly learned that it was in fact Ghost's most prized possession, even though he didn't have a car. Ghost had turned 21 just shortly after meeting Kiba, and storming into Gear's place while returning from a bar or party quickly became his habit. At first the deluge of chattiness and energy had left Kiba at a total loss.

Two weeks in, Kiba had taken drastic measures.

Now when Ghost came in plastered, Kiba would reach behind him on the couch, hit the speed-dial for Ghost's ex-girlfriend, shove the phone in Ghost's face, and go back to relaxing with Luna and Gear in front of the television.

The apocalypse came exactly three weeks after Ghost's birthday, and at the time Kiba wasn't just cleaning up pee, oh no: he was also watching an MMA match and trying to tune out Ghost's passionate outcry to his ex that he was in fact excellent at listening, and she was simply too self-centered to appreciate his unbelievable awesomeness, when he heard fumbling at the door.

Gear strode in with a bag of groceries. "Kiba, go to the news," Gear said urgently, dropping the bag indiscriminately on the floor.

"Uh..." Kiba said.

Kiba and Ghost gawked as Gear secured all three extra locks on the door, then hurried to the window to close off the fire escape.

"Y'know, Gear," Ghost said, hand on the phone receiver, "sometimes paranoid schizophrenics only show symptoms when they get really, really old - "

"I'm not old so shut up. Kiba where's the news?" Kiba fumbled with the controller, flopping next to Luna on the couch, Gear joining him.

A pretty brunette in a newsroom flashed onto the screen. "This is Robin Scherbatsky, reporting live in New York City. Breaking news - In Greece, there have been reports of protesters eating riot police on the streets. A Republican spokesperson has condemned the bizarre tragedy, calling it 'what happens when the Occupy movement goes too far with their class warfare agenda.'"

"What is this crap, Metro 1?" Gear muttered, taking the controller from Kiba and starting to surf. "Where's CNN again? They're just a front for the CIA anyways, they'll know what's up."

"Just FYI," Ghost started, "they've made great advances in medication for schizos - "

"Shut up!"

CNN appeared, with a reporter standing in an empty street. "It's been a bloody day in France, Delinda - chaos reigns as Parisian citizens are driven mad with what some are calling an artificially engineered form of rabies. The UN has issued a statement claiming it may be a bio-terrorist attack originating from China or Iran, while Putin has pointed a finger at the White House..."

Kiba tuned out the words as he tried to make sense of the footage, the shaky camera zooming in on the tiny figures in the distance. What was...what was wrong with those people?

"Holy FUCK, they're EATING each other!" Ghost proclaimed. "Holy FUCK!"

"That's it," Gear said, getting off the couch. "New York is like a petri dish, if this is a disease, we need to get out. Kiba, get your things." Kiba grabbed Luna and quickly got to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. "Ghost, do you have family here?" Gear was already yanking open drawers.

"No, I told you my Aunt's down in Fort Lauderdale for the summer - "

"You're coming with us, so get your shit, now."

For once Ghost didn't argue, disappearing out the door.

* * *

It took them twenty minutes to have everything packed, and then Gear had them stumbling down the stairwell with their arms stuffed.

Kiba followed Ghost out the door and onto the landing, and saw Reggie sitting on the steps. Reggie had graduated high school last year, and was usually hanging around the building. He was also one of the few people in New York that Kiba had made an effort to talk to, beside Ghost and Gear.

"Hey Kiba." Reggie smiled up at him.

Kiba smiled shyly back, even though he probably looked ridiculous with three backpacks hanging off him, Luna leashed and sitting in his arm.

Gear came out behind him with arms stuffed, pushing the door open with his shoulder. "Reggie, you need to get your family out of New York now, like right fucking now!"

Reggie raised an eyebrow. "Whatever, Gear. You don't sound paranoid at all."

"Reggie, he's serious," Kiba said quietly, letting Gear herd him down the stairs.

"Really?" Reggie looked unconvinced. "Everyone keeps saying the government has a cure, it's not gonna come here - "

"And you're willing to risk your entire families' life on that?" Gear snapped.

Reggie stared, fear coming into his eyes.

"Please, Reggie - " Kiba said, standing behind Gear as Ghost hailed a taxi. Gear was sending text message, probably telling all his friends to leave the city.

Reggie thought for a moment, then he stood and nodded. "Ok. I'll make sure my dad knows."

"Promise Reggie!" Gear snapped as Ghost secured a taxi. "Don't wimp out on me. You say you're gonna do this, you do it. Today!"

"Ok, ok, I will!" Reggie got to his feet, looking ready to run. Before he disappeared in the building, he turned to look at Kiba. "Hey, call me!"

Kiba couldn't stop a smile from breaking out on his face, Luna barking. "Kiba, we have to go!" Gear said, clearly close to panicking. Kiba shared one last smile with Reggie, and then was ducking into the taxi door Gear had left open for him.

Gear hadn't even bothered to put their stuff in the trunk, dumping a bunch of the bags onto a disgruntled Ghost in the front seat. The doors slammed, and Gear leaned forward to shove some bills into the Indian-looking driver's hands. "Out of town. East. Take the fastest, least populated route."

"You are scared of the disease, yes?" the driver asked. "Everyone is so paranoid, but I say it's just a big joke, the government would never let that happen." The cab pulled into the stream of taxis and trucks, obeying the odd orders anyways. "But I drive you. Yes, I drive you, I know the roads verywell, don't worry!"

"Three hundred dollars to get there fast," Gear said.

The car sped up so quickly they all found themselves slammed uncomfortably against the seat backs.

The music registered in Kiba's ears. Christ, was the driver playing Enya? Enya may have a time and place, but this was definitely not it. The taxi swerved wildly into another lane, all of them flung sideways in the maneuver. Luna yipped, the taxi driver swearing in a language Kiba wasn't familiar with.

Finally they were on an open stretch of road, and traffic smoothed. The track changed to another Enya song, confirming it was the CD and not the radio, to Kiba's dismay.

"Hey Gear?" Kiba asked, quietly.

"Yeah, Kiba?" Gear was staring worriedly out the window, the car still going terrifyingly fast.

"Thanks for telling Reggie."

"Of course. You think I'd let your crush stick around in this place?"

"What?" Ghost twisted around to gawk at Kiba. "Kiba's gay? Oh my god, I totally did not know that."

Kiba froze, speechless. Luna curled up in his arms, not liking the ride.

Gear realized what he'd said, and his face fell. "Oh. Sorry Kiba, I didn't mean to out you like that. Guess I wasn't thinking."

"Uh..." To Kiba's dismay, Ghost had this incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable look on his face. "So Kiba...I, uh... hope you don't think...uh...look, I'm like, really not into dudes, so...but I...think I'm going to have to let you down gently, but I like, really treasure our friendship and stuff - "

Gear leaned forward and cuffed Ghost on the side of the head, hard. "Ow! What the fuck - "

"Get over yourself, retard," Gear snapped, "You think just cause he's gay he has a hard-on for every other male on the planet?"

Ghost stared. "Well...kinda..."

Gear rolled his eyes, the discussion distracting him from the horrors he hopefully just imagined lurked outside. "Ok, so you're telling me that every time you see a girl, you instantly have a crush and want to get all diggity."

"Well, yeah."

"Every single one."

"I mean...ok, I'll admit some are kind of annoying. And some are seriously ugly. But other than that..."

"Sometimes I forget how pathetically perverted you are," Gear mumbled under his breath.

Kiba could feel his face burning. "Um, Gear's right," he whispered. "I'm not into you or anything."

Ghost looked confused. "What, you mean you're gay and you're not into me?" He looked down at himself incredulously. "But I'm fucking hot!"

"Jesus Christ, you're like a nine year old," Gear muttered, texting again.

"Yeah, well I should have known he was gay, since he has such a wimpy dog." Ghost looked petulant and grumpy, and leaning around, poked a finger towards Luna. Luna growled and lunged forward, Ghost pulling his finger back just in time.

"Hey, why do you think those people are running?" Gear asked as taxi slowed for an intersection.

Everyone squinted down the alley to see the road on the other side. "Probably Jamaican vendors running from the police," Ghost ventured. "Sometimes I forget how entertaining this place is."

Gear looked grim, hand going to the bag on his lap. "Well, if we need to, I can use a knife."

"You can use knives?" Kiba asked in amazement.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure memorizing every Bruce Lee movie doesn't mean you can actually fight." Ghost said, amused.

"Shut up, Ghost, I can. I mean, I can hunt, and I know how to defend myself with it, my uncle Herb taught me. He used to take me hunting all the time. Guns too, I'll teach you."

Kiba smiled. "That's useful, I'm glad he was your uncle."

"Yeah, uncle Herb was awesome. Cooler than anyone else in the family. He was gay actually," Gear said with a smile to Kiba. "It was pretty sad though. He was madly in love with this guy who owned the general store in town, but the owner was straight, married and all that. I was always telling Herb to move, find, you know, somewhere with more people out of the closet, but he wouldn't budge -"

"Cool story bro, does that hobo have blood on his face?" Ghost asked. They were stopped at an intersection. Gear leaned forward to peer around Kiba, instantly concerned. The Enya still played relentlessly, sweeping melodies vastly at odds with the bug-eyed sasquatch staggering around on the sidewalk.

"Oh, don't be scared now," the ever eavesdropping taxi driver warbled, "he probably got in a fight with a big black mugger. This neighborhood, not so good - "

"400 dollars if you get us to I-95 without stopping!"

Amazed, the taxi driver craned back to look at Gear. "You know, I don't like people not keeping their word, I hope you aren't making promises you won't - "

"Just turn off the damn Enya and drive!" Kiba shouted, to everyone's shock. Enya vanished and they all found themselves slammed against the seat backs again.

Gear roared in laughter.

* * *

No-one was laughing two hours later as their sobbing and terrified cabbie careened down yet another life-saving detour, the outside of the taxi smeared in blood. When they finally reached the relative peace of suburbia, nothing would be the same.


	2. Plans

No one said a word as they pulled into the housing development in the suburbs. They stared with nervous eyes as they passed the houses, some still under construction and some finished. To Kiba's relief it seemed the cabbie had told the truth. No-one had ever moved in. It was safe. Unpopulated.

The cabbie, breath catching in his throat in little hiccups, let the cab roll up to a small little park. Around the colorful play equipment the grass was verdant green and perfectly mowed, clearly a show-piece to attract future buyers.

The car idled then turned off, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing. Kiba realized he was shaking uncontrollably, Luna burying her head in his stomach.

Suddenly their cabbie gave out a wail and yanked at his hair, starting to smash his head against the top of the steering wheel.

"Woah, WOAH!" Ghost said, trying to grab his shirt and hold him back. "Dude watch the fucking horn, be careful!"

The man swatted wildly at Ghost's hands, eyes wild. "You think I care about my safety? You think I care about any of your damn safety?" he yelled in his thick Indian accent. "Fuck you!" He fumbled furiously with his seat-belt to climb out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. They watched from inside as the man started to kick the front tire and swear in another language. At least Kiba assumed it was swearing, it sounded angry enough.

Ghost looked back at Kiba and Gear, confused.

"Oh man..." Kiba said, pointing at the dash. Under a little sign reading "Hello my name is Samir," there was a Polaroid of their cabbie. The thirty-something man looked much the same but bearded, grinning proudly for the camera with two cute little girls beaming and clinging to him.

"Aw shit," Gear said, getting out of the car. "Hey, uh...Samir? It's Samir, right?"

Samir didn't answer, Kiba and Ghost climbing out as well, Kiba holding Luna. Samir stopped kicking to lean against the hood of the taxi, covering his face with his hands.

"Hey man, where were they? Are they someplace we could get too?" Gear asked gently, even though they all knew it was a lost cause.

"My neighbor took them to the park today..." Samir muttered from behind his hands. "They were at the park...she is just an old woman, she can't keep them safe..." He clenched shaking hands into fists, and then spun to them in a rage. "Out! Get your things out of my taxi, I have to go back!"

"You can't, it's suicide!" Gear exclaimed.

"I don't care! I will die! I will go back and die!" Samir shoved by Gear and scrambled for the door, trying to yank it open.

"Samir, listen to me, you can't!" Gear shouted, grabbing him and clumsily grappling with him. "What good'll it do your daughters if you're dead?"

"But what is the point?" Samir wailed, turning to Gear and shoving him back. "I am a coward! I should have gone back, I should have drove straight for them instead of saving you! You are not worth it, you are not worth any of it!"

Samir pounded his palms on his forehead, gritting his teeth in utter distress. He choked out more sobs, Gear and Kiba watching wide-eyed.

"Hey...man, it's ok..." Ghost said awkwardly, taking a hesitant step forward. "Well...like...Muslims go to heaven, right? So, they're with Allah right now, right? They're at peace."

Samir spun on Ghost, eyes bulging. "Muslim? Muslim?" Samir screeched. "I am Hindi, you bastard!"

"Oh, uh..." Ghost backpedaled, blanching. "Ok, well that means they'll be like, reincarnated as beautiful birds or something, right?"

"You think I want my daughters to be birds? Fucking birds?" Ghost seemed to quail and shrink two feet when Samir got in his face. "I want my girls alive! But no! I get you! I get an idiot who should be dead! I wish you were dead!"

Enraged, Samir surged forward, Ghost yelping and running back around the taxi in an attempt to keep a good ten feet between them.

"If I hadn't been driving your stupid taxi I would be with my daughters!"

Ghost made it to the other side of the taxi, but Samir bent down and reappeared with a rock, flinging it at Ghost's head, barely missing and hitting Ghost's shoulder instead.

"Ow, stop! Stop! I thought Hinduists were peaceful!" Ghost ducked down as Samir appeared with another rock.

"I will show you peaceful you stupid hipster bastard!"

Kiba and Gear stood to one side and watched as the man chased Ghost around the taxi, Ghost yelping and trying his best to shield his head.

"Um...think we should stop them?" Kiba whispered to Gear.

Gear sighed. "Seeing Ghost hit with rocks is so refreshing. But yeah, yeah, you're probably right." He stepped forward, getting in the way of Samir, Ghost ducking behind his shoulders.

Samir stopped, panting in fury, eyeing him as Gear raised his hands in appeasement.

"Look...please, listen to me," Gear tried. "I'm so sorry for your loss, man. None of us can understand what you're going through right now, but you need to listen to me. If you want to survive, you can't think about them now. I'm so sorry, but...you need to be like a robot for awhile."

"How am I not supposed to think about them?" Samir wailed. "They are all I have thought about for eight years. They are my life!"

It was too much and he started sobbing relentlessly, flopping to his knees, hands outstretched and shaking.

"They are so beautiful...little Shilpa...just six years old...and Sati...almost eight...they...they just moved here a few years ago...they were going to grow up, and go to school, and speak the English, and have...have beautiful weddings...I was saving for their weddings..." Samir broke down entirely and buried his face in his hands, blubbering as the other three stood awkwardly nearby. "I want to die...my babies..."

Kiba pulled at Gear's arm. "Um...scratch that...maybe give him some time?" he said quietly. "I think it's safe here, we can wait."

Gear sighed miserably, watching Samir roll on the ground with his head wrapped in his arms while he wailed. "Yeah, maybe you're right." He followed Kiba to the picnic table and sat on the top, feet on the bench. Ghost, after eying Samir a bit more, walked their way.

"I hope my family's ok," Kiba said quietly, placing Luna down on the ground and holding her leash.

"They're in the boondocks, so there's a good chance they had time to get somewhere safe," Gear said reassuringly. "You get in touch with them?"

"I sent them a text saying I'm ok," Kiba said nervously. "They didn't text back though."

"Well, check, see if they did," Gear responded

Kiba's dad had made him buy a disposable cell phone phone before leaving for New York, something he appreciated now. He pulled it out, thumbing through the inbox. "Hey, there's a text from Reggie!"

"Ooh, a text from you boyfriend?" Ghost asked tauntingly.

"Shut up, Ghost," Gear said. "If there's one time in your life to be serious, don't you think this might be it?"

Ghost groused, but did shut up.

"It says he got his family out, that they took a taxi out past the Jersey Turnpike." Kiba scrolled down. "He says it's safe about ten miles east of there, lots of men with guns."

"Think we should try and go there?" Ghost asked.

"I dunno, seems like a bad idea to me," Gear said. "We should do everything we can to avoid population centers."

"Oh come on man, that's good intelligence, like a tip!" Ghost argued. "Hell, maybe the government has automatic weapons and shit, I bet it's easy to mow down all those infected people from a distance. Haven't you see all those Michael Crichton movies? They could've set up barricades and have a quarantine. "

"In those movies the quarantine never works!" Gear argued. "There's always a breach and then they have to bomb the place with napalm."

"That's just so they have drama for the action and stuff, in real life I bet it works," Ghost said.

Gear sighed. "I dunno, maybe. If we tried it we'd have to stay away from the highways, bet it's gridlock. Kiba, what do you think?"

"I'd rather have men with guns protecting me than an empty housing development," Kiba said quietly.

Ghost frowned, and hunching his shoulders leaned forward, which Kiba knew was his thinking position. "Well, if news gets out about this place they'll probably get swamped with refugees, so the longer we wait the harder it'll be to get in. They might close off the walls when they think there isn't enough capacity. It's just such a damn risk!"

Kiba shrugged. "Samir seems to know all the roads, maybe he knows a safe way to get there."

"Yeah, good point. Hey, Samir!" Gear said, standing and walking over. "We heard there's a safe zone near the Jersey Turnpike, do you know a good way to get there? Like by back-roads?"

Samir, sitting behind the taxi with his head on his knees, didn't answer.

"Samir? Samir, please."

"I don't care what you say. Leave me alone," Samir snarled, hiccuping.

"We need you man, please, you have to drive for us."

"There are cars everywhere. Steal one and drive it yourself."

"I can't man, not like you. I've lived in New York for two decades, I can't even parallel park anymore," Gear argued in distress. "And Ghost here, Ghost is a spazz, he couldn't keep up alive if he tried."

"Hey!" Ghost argued. "I'm a badass with a car!"

"Shut your trap, Ghost."

"Yes, shut your trap," Samir said, lifting his tear-stained face to glare at Ghost. "You have all the intelligence of that Butthead boy from the cartoon, no one cares what you say."

"Drop it," Gear said to Ghost, shutting him up before he could open his mouth to argue. He turned back to Samir. "Please man, we need you. We owe our lives to you."

"And now go do something else with them. I am not your personal magic carpet guide."

"Are you serious? After all that effort you're just gonna throw us to the dogs?"

"You deserve to be fed to the dogs. I don't care what happens to you," Samir snarled.

"Look," Gear said in a heated voice, "if you want to leave me behind, fine, I'm just some average asshole. And if you want to leave scarecrow here, whatever." He pointed at Kiba. "But Kiba is 17 fucking years old, he's a kid, you're going to leave a kid?"

"So? I was driving pedi-cabs in Delhi at 14 years old, he is not a little boy!"

"Come on man, look at him," Gear said earnestly. "He hasn't even had his first kiss yet."

"Hey!" Kiba protested, blushing bright red, Ghost perking up at the news.

But it seemed to work for Samir, who looked at Kiba with a sort of shocked pity. Then Samir scowled in exasperation, mumbling more choice phrases in that language of his. "Fine! Fine, I will drive your stupid asses to this place. But only because I am an idiot, and I deserve to be dead anyways."


End file.
